The One With Chandler's Date
by Helga Von Nutwimple
Summary: A gauntlet is thrown. A challenge is accepted. And Chandler's wearing a towel. WARNING: Sexual themes, minor slash.
1. This Half Naked Moment

This takes place early on, Season Three-ish.  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Chandler walked out of the bathroom, did a double-take, and clutched the towel around his waist protectively.  
  
"I'm so glad you all could be here to share this... half naked moment," he drawled. "What the hell are you guys all doing here?" He paused. "Staring at me creepily?"  
  
"Wow, so *that's* your third nipple," Rachel said happily, mouth full of popcorn. "Interesting."  
  
Chandler groaned and stomped into his bedroom, slamming the door. "Look, you've seen the nipple, woo-hoo, will you all just go next door please?"  
  
"Why's that, Chandler?" Ross grinned. "Afraid we'll find out about your... top-secret date tonight?"  
  
Chandler cracked his bedroom door and glared at Joey, who looked innocently off in the distance.  
  
"That's right!" Monica crowed. "We *know*. It's payback time, buddy."  
  
"You've mocked every date we've ever been on," Phoebe added. "And now..."  
  
"We've got front-row seats for yours," Rachel added with a smirk, putting her feet up on the coffeetable and throwing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.  
  
"You guys need lives," Chandler muttered from behind the door. "Seriously."  
  
"Oh come *on*, Chandler," Ross said. "You finally have a date... and you didn't even mention it? Gotta be hiding something."  
  
"I bet she's fourteen," Phoebe gushed.  
  
"I bet she's *forty*," Rachel added.  
  
"I'm still bettin' it's Janice," Joey said.  
  
"Maybe it's another one of your sisters," Monica grinned, poking Joey in the ribs.  
  
"Dude!" Joey cried indignantly.  
  
Chandler's door cracked again. "Look, you guys. My date is neither fourteen, nor forty, nor Janice, nor related to Joey. Now will you people get the hell out of the apartment?"  
  
"Fat, definitely fat. Like huge," Phoebe decided.  
  
"Bald?" Monica speculated. "Partially bald?"  
  
Chandler emerged, buttoning his shirt. "I will give you all fifty bucks each to not be here in five seconds."  
  
"Oh my god, we're so stayin'," Joey cried in excitement.  
  
A knock at the door caused Chandler to jump in horror.  
  
"Oh yay!" Phoebe cried, bouncing up and down on the couch.  
  
"Okay, okay," Chandler said nervously, bouncing up and down. "I'm gonna answer that door, but, this is a really, really long story, and it's to prove a point, okay, and you guys have to promise to be quiet until we leave."  
  
"That's cool," Phoebe said. "We usually wait until then to talk about you anyway."  
  
"So we're agreed on the quiet?" Chandler demanded.  
  
The other five obediently made zipping-lips motions.  
  
Chandler strode to the door, taking a last, nervous look over his shoulder at his friends, and swung the door open.  
  
"Hey, Brian," Chandler said, shooting warning glances at the group sitting stunned on the couch.  
  
"Hey, you," Brian murmured, handing Chandler a bouquet of flowers. "I got you these."  
  
"Thanks," Chandler said awkwardly, accepting the flowers. "Um, Brian, these are my friends. Guys, this is Brian Stephens. He works at my company, he's in Payroll."  
  
"Nice to meet you guys," Brian smiled, giving them a little wave.  
  
"Well, we're gonna miss the party if we don't take off," Chandler said, pushing Brian gently out the door and slamming it after them.  
  
The other five sat in stunned silence for a moment.  
  
"Oh my god," Rachel finally gasped.  
  
"Dude," Joey added.  
  
"I'm... I'm stunned," Ross said flatly.  
  
"I know!" Phoebe screeched. "How hot is that guy??" 


	2. In Front Of God And The Bean Dip

"You didn't tell your friends about our agreement, did you," Brian laughed, pressing the unlock button on his key chain.   
  
"What clued you in? The bulging eyes, the soaring eyebrows... or was it the little strands of drool sliding off their lower lips?"  
  
"It all helped," Brian said, opening the car door. "So how come you didn't tell them?"  
  
"They'll still be bringing it up when I'm on my deathbed, for one thing... not to mention that my roommate will be keeping a seven-foot distance from me at all times now."  
  
Brian slid into the car. "So just tell him about the bet, and take him out to dinner with your winnings. That's how I convinced my boyfriend to let me do this."  
  
"You know, I'm really going to *enjoy* sending Lowell into abject poverty," Chandler smirked, buckling his seatbelt.  
  
"Oh, not as much as I will," Brian grinned. "You know, I dated him for like, five minutes. Five god-awful, horrendous, minutes."  
  
"You didn't."  
  
Brian rolled his eyes. "You don't even want to know how long of a dry spell made me desperate enough for *that*." He pulled out into traffic. "So... the tall one, that's your roommate?"  
  
"No-no, that's Ross," Chandler replied. "My roommate's the Italian one."  
  
"Really? *In-ter-est-ing*."  
  
"Why-why? What's *in-ter-est-ing* about that?"  
  
"Well, gotta tell you, he sent my bi-dar *all* a-beepin'. Didn't figure him for the seven-foot distance guy."  
  
"Well," Chandler laughed, "I hope your 'bi-dar' is still under warranty... because the guy puts Wilt Chamberlain into the amateur leagues. Trojan has stock in *him*, okay?"  
  
"Ahhhhh," Brian said knowingly. "One of *those*."  
  
"One of *those*... what?"  
  
"Oh-ver-com-pen-saaaaaa-tion," Brian sang, putting on his blinker.  
  
"Sorry, but no," Chandler said firmly.  
  
"Hey, it's classic," Brian added. "Look, my last boyfriend -- he spent *years* in denial before he finally came out. Couldn't ever commit to a woman or have a real relationship with one... but, y'know, compulsively stuck it in pretty much every one he met, just trying to prove to himself that he wasn't what he didn't want to admit he ever-so-very-much-was. It's cliche, really, his parents were religious, he had this gay uncle the whole family had spent his whole life violently disapproving of, y'know..."  
  
"You don't know Joey, okay?"  
  
"Sure, sure," Brian said soothingly. "Consider it dropped. Now, this party tonight. Who, specifically, did you start bets with?"  
  
"Miranda," Chandler said, ticking off names on his fingers. "Myra, Bob and Sarah in Purchasing. Janie the copy girl, Beth, Elaine, and Steve, pretty much everyone in Accounts Payable..."  
  
"I got pretty much everyone in Accounts Receivable," Brian added. "Good thing Payable and Receivable hate each other. I also got a bunch of guys from Tech Support and Marketing."  
  
"Oh my *god*... how much money is this up to now?"  
  
Brian grinned widely. "Three thousand *each*, at least, if we can pull this off."  
  
"Holy crap," Chandler said in awe.  
  
"Feelin' pretty gay now?"  
  
"Three thousand bucks? I will flame like the fire of a thousand suns."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, guys," Brian called out, pulling Chandler by the hand over to a group of twentysomething males. "How's the tech supporting?"  
  
"Hey, Bri," a guy with long sandy hair replied, then did a double take. "Hey... Bing..."  
  
"Howdy, Steve," Chandler grinned, moving a lock of Brian's hair away from his forehead affectionately. "How was the convention? Did your Klingon head turn out okay?"  
  
"You guys are... together?" Steve asked, looking at the other guys nervously.  
  
"Yup," Brian smiled, squeezing Chandler's hand.   
  
"I t-thought you were straight, Bing," Steve whined. "Like... super-straight. I saw you with that girl... that really hot girl..."  
  
"My friend Rachel?" Chandler scratched his nose innocently. "She is really gorgeous, yeah. What I wouldn't give to have that hair!"  
  
"So she *wasn't* your girlfriend," another man drawled sarcastically, glaring at one who looked at his shoes miserably. "Gee, *that's* funny. Ralph here said she *was*, and we all *believed* him."  
  
"You guys seem... awfully *upset* about this," Chandler said in mock concern. "Is this gonna be a... a *problem*?"  
  
"Oh no... no, no, no," Steve said hastily. "We're all just surprised, that's all. Um, cause we thought that girl was your girlfriend. But we wish you all the best, we do. You guys make a, um, really cute couple."  
  
"Well, I certainly think so," Chandler smiled, kissing Brian on the cheek.   
  
"Well, we've gotta mingle," Brian cooed, then turned a calculating eye on the tech support guys. "But I'll see *you* guys later." He made money-counting motions with his hands.  
  
Chandler and Brian walked away, stifling laughter as the tech-support guys began yelling at Ralph.  
  
***  
  
"Bullshit," Lowell said flatly.  
  
"Excuse me?" Chandler asked in his most offended tone.  
  
"I said bullshit," Lowell repeated. "There's no way you two are together. Chandler, you told me yourself that you were straight."  
  
"Look, Lowell, I... I'm just not attracted to you," Chandler sighed. "Telling you I was straight just seemed like the easiest way out of an awkward situation."  
  
"Sorry, I'm not buying it," Lowell said. "I'm gonna need evidence."  
  
"Look, Lowell, I don't carry around sex tapes in my pocket. You're just going to have to believe me."  
  
"When five hundred bucks is on the line, I don't have to believe anything," Lowell crossed his arms and glared defiantly. "I'm gonna have to see some PDA, at least."  
  
"I'm not going to let you watch my boyfriend and I make out, you freak."  
  
"Yeah, that's right. Because you don't have a boyfriend, and you don't make out."  
  
"Is the little man harassing you, baby?" Brian grinned, sliding his arms around Chandler from behind.  
  
"See? Ha. You jumped," Lowell said smugly. "Your so-called 'lover' puts his arms around you, and you *jump*. Could you *be* any straighter, Bing?"  
  
"He surprised me," Chandler said defensively.  
  
"What's this?" Brian asked, settling his chin on Chandler's shoulder.  
  
"Lowell doesn't believe we're together, honey," Chandler replied.  
  
"You're such a cretin, Lowell."  
  
"And you're a big fat fake, Brian. C'mon. Let's see the 'happy couple' kiss."  
  
"I didn't realize you liked to watch," Brian smirked, eyebrow soaring.  
  
"C'mon, Brian," Chandler said. "Let's just go."  
  
"Now, now, sweetie," Brian replied, running Chandler's tie through his hands. "The sad little man wants a show."  
  
"Yeah, Brian, kiss the straight boy," Lowell chuckled. "I'd like to see him set a sprinting record."  
  
Chandler grabbed Brian's face in both hands and planted one on him. Brian kissed back passionately, wrapping his arms around Chandler and pulling him close to him. After a few seconds, they broke off and turned to face Lowell.  
  
"Now, did that... satisfy you, or do we need to get naked right here in front of God and the bean dip?" Brian laughed.  
  
"Wow," Lowell said. "You *are* gay, Bing. I'm sorry... wow... I'm an asshole."  
  
"Yes, you are," Chandler smiled. "*Now* can we go, sweetie?"  
  
"Sure," Brian grinned. "Let's go talk to Myra."  
  
***  
  
Chandler reached for a beer, thought better of it, and grabbed a Tropical Breeze wine cooler, one eye on Brian in the corner, collecting wads of cash from the tech support guys.  
  
"Hey, Toby," said a voice over his shoulder.  
  
"Hey, Bob," he sighed.  
  
"Hey, did you hear?" Bob asked, twisting the top off a beer. "Chandler in Processing's gay!"  
  
"No way," Chandler said, looking around nervously.  
  
"Oh yeah! I just talked to Lowell! He said he was so sure that the guy was straight, but then he saw him making out with Brian Stephens from Payroll. It sucks, 'cause a bunch of guys in my department had a bet with Brian that he couldn't make Chandler, y'know, bat for the team."  
  
"Really...?"  
  
"Yeah. The guys in my group were pretty sure this Chandler guy was straight, but... Lowell said no straight guy could kiss another guy like that."  
  
"Well, maybe he's just a very talented actor... this... Chandler guy..."  
  
"Yeah, right! Seeya, Toby."  
  
"Seeya, Bob."  
  
"Did that guy just call you 'Toby'?" Brian asked, grabbing a beer.  
  
"Yeah. Long story. How'd you do on the Tech Support guys?"  
  
"Fabulous. And Accounts Payable?"  
  
"Ah, they all saw our little display back there, I've got a whole walletful of payables now."  
  
"So you got yourself a Brian," Brian grinned, taking a sip of his beer.  
  
"And you converted a Chandler."  
  
They clinked their bottles together.  
  
"Seriously, Bing, a wine cooler? Cliche!"  
  
"Sorry, man, I'm new at this."  
  
"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but you are a *fabulous* kisser."  
  
"Thanks," Chandler said shyly, picking at his drink label. "You're not so bad yourself."  
  
"Sure you're straight? It's *such* a waste."  
  
"Pretty sure..."  
  
"Only pretty sure?" Brian's eyebrow soared again.  
  
"Well, I did just make out with you in front of the entire Accounts Payable department..."  
  
"Speaking of which, my girls from Receivable are giving us the eye. Repeat performance, okay?"  
  
Chandler stepped into Brian's arms and kissed him again.  
  
"Well, now we know what you'll do for three grand," Brian laughed. "Wonder what you'd do for six?"  
  
"Let's hope I never, never find that out," Chandler grinned.  
  
***  
  
"Three thousand one hundred and twenty... three thousand one hundred and forty... and three quarters," Brian said, counting off into Chandler's palm. "Not bad for a night's work, eh, Bing?"  
  
Chandler stuck the money into his wallet. "Hey, Brian... can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Anything, my partner in crime."  
  
"Do I... set off your gaydar?"  
  
Brian smiled sweetly. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I think I do."  
  
"On a scale of one to ten... you're a five, I think," Brian straightened Chandler's collar. "I'd say you're a go-either-way-er, the kind that gets to decide. Me, the decision was made for."  
  
"Okay," Chandler said awkwardly.  
  
"You're a cute kid," Brian said, giving Chandler a kiss on the cheek. "I had fun tonight. Just so you know... if Brian didn't have a boyfriend, you could *totally* get a Brian."  
  
"Good to know."  
  
"Bye," Brian said, and disappeared down the stairs.  
  
Chandler watched him go, then turned back to the green door. Explaining this to Joey was *not* going to be fun.  
  
He pushed the door open, blinking at the darkness inside. Was Joey already in bed?  
  
"Hey," a voice called from the barcoloungerial area.  
  
"Joe? What are you doing sitting in the dark?"  
  
"Just thinkin'."  
  
"Thinking," Chandler said dubiously.  
  
"I do that sometimes!"  
  
"Well, I'm turning on the light," Chandler said, flipping the switch. He looked at Joey and did a double take. "Joe... have you been crying?"  
  
"Yeah," Joey said. "I spilled some salt, y'know, and I was gonna throw it over my shoulder... but the duck bit me, and I accidentally threw it in my eyes. Burned like hell. It's why I had the lights off... the light kinda hurts."  
  
"Oh god, sorry," Chandler said, hurriedly flipping the switch back down.  
  
"How was your date?"  
  
"Oh, Joey, look, I have to explain about that..."  
  
"You don't have to explain nothin' to me," Joey said. "I'm fine with it. He seems like a nice guy."  
  
"No, no, it... it wasn't a real date. It was a bet."  
  
"You don't need to make stuff up, man, I said I was fine with it."  
  
"No, really. It was a bet. I can explain the whole thing."  
  
Joey let out an obviously fake yawn. "Let's talk about this in the morning."  
  
"I'd really rather..."  
  
"I would *like*... to talk about this... in the *morning*."  
  
"Sure, Joe," Chandler said miserably. He heard Joey's door slam and walked cautiously towards his own, feeling his way along in the dark.  
  
***  
  
Chandler pulled his shirt over his head and threw it across a chair, sighing heavily. Joey's reaction wasn't what he'd expected at all... in a weird way, it had actually been worse.  
  
"Hey," a voice hissed behind him.  
  
He whirled. "Joe?"  
  
"No, no, it's me... Rach." She stepped forward and closed his bedroom door behind her.  
  
"Um... hi... what's up?"  
  
"I heard you come in. I thought you might need someone to talk to." She moved into the light from the window and hugged her bathrobe around her.  
  
"Look, Rach... I appreciate it, but... this is all a misunderstanding..."  
  
"I had a bisexual experience in college," Rachel blurted.  
  
Chandler's eyebrows soared with interest. "W-well, you should definitely tell me all about *that*, i-in great detail...!"  
  
Rachel lay down on the bed, and Chandler stretched out next to her.  
  
"It was this girl named Melissa at my sorority, at this party... we were both a little drunk... okay, a lot drunk..."  
  
"Yuh-huh," Chandler nodded happily.  
  
"And we... well, you know, made out for a while. And I liked it, maybe a little more than I was comfortable with. You know? And I still think about it, sometimes, when I'm... anyway, I kinda think that if I, y'know, made the decision to live life differently... well, that I could."  
  
Rachel touched Chandler's cheek affectionately. "Just so you know you're not alone."  
  
"You're really gonna kick my ass when I tell you I dated Brian on a bet, aren't you?" Chandler grinned.  
  
"Oh... oh... you creep!!" Rachel shrieked, grabbing Chandler's pillow and beating him with it. "You let me tell that whole story!"  
  
Chandler caught her by the wrists and laughed. "Rach... Rach. *Thank you* for telling me that story. In all seriousness... I think I liked tonight a little more than I was comfortable with, too."  
  
Rachel sat back. "You did? Really?"  
  
"So what'd you do about the... Melissa thing? Did you ever do anything like that again?"  
  
"No," Rachel sighed. "It's just... something that sort of lives in the back of my brain, I guess. I mean, don't they say that everyone is a little bit bi? I'm pretty sure Phoebe is, anyway."  
  
"What about Joey?"  
  
"Joey?"  
  
"It's something my date said. He said Joey set off his 'bi-dar'."  
  
"Joey, the manslut of the West Village," Rachel said incredulously.  
  
"Brian said that was classic -- overcompensating, he called it."  
  
"Huh," Rachel said, flopping back onto the bed. "Well, y'know, I did have that dream... y'know, with me, and you, and Joey... and at the time I was dreaming it, I mean, it just sort of seemed... natural."  
  
"Natural, huh," Chandler mused.  
  
"Well, yeah. I don't know, really. Chandler... do you ever feel like... we're all sort of... I dunno, pigeonholed? Penned in?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"It's like we all have this... this role to play, you know? Monica the neat freak, Ross the geek. Chandler 'the funny one', Joey 'the slow one', Phoebe 'the hippie', me the... oh, I don't know... the shallow one, or the wimp, or the brat, or something..."  
  
Chandler rolled up onto an elbow and looked at Rachel. She did the same.  
  
"Don't you feel like all of us are... more than that? Or we could be, if we'd let each other? It just seems like we're all... sort of a force that keeps each other the same."  
  
"I guess I can see that," he swallowed.  
  
"You wanna kiss me," Rachel smiled.  
  
"Yeah, I... I do. Not gonna, though. And it's your fault for telling me hot lesbian stories."  
  
"I dunno," Rachel sighed, rolling onto her stomach. "It's just... I want something more, I want to do more stuff before I die than just sit in the coffeeshop. I want to try more things, try on some different Rachels, I guess. But we have such a comfortable thing here, with the six of us, and our little lives, you know. I don't want to give that up, either."  
  
Rachel reached out and took Chandler's hand. "Don't you feel it, though? Something coming, some huge change? I don't know if it's me, or you, or neither one of us... but it's like pressure building up... and eventually, it's gonna blow. I've been feeling it for months... when Ross and I broke up, I thought that had to be it, but... it wasn't, at least not completely."  
  
"I don't know, Rach. Honestly, I don't know much of anything right now. It's been a hell of a confusing night, and this conversation's just making it weirder."  
  
"I wish I could sleep here, I'm comfy," Rachel yawned. "Ross would kill you, though."  
  
"Yes, yes he would."  
  
"So I'm gonna go," she smiled, and kissed his forehead. "Love you, honey."  
  
"Love you, too." He watched her go, then laid back on his back, arms folded beneath his head.  
  
What the hell was happening here? 


	3. Two Scoops of Vanilla

"Wake up," Rachel announced, plopping down onto Chandler's bed.  
  
"G'way," he mumbled into his pillow. Rachel shook his arm.  
  
He rolled over and blinked. "Okay, this new little habit of yours, with the materializing in my bedroom? Gotta stop."  
  
"Oh c'mon, c'mon, Chandler, get uuuuup," Rachel wheedled, pulling at his wrist. "Pleeeeeeease? I've got a plan!"  
  
"I had a plan too! It involved sleeping for at least four more hours!"  
  
"Get up right now, or... I'm pulling off my top and moaning your name *really* loudly."  
  
Chandler groaned and threw the covers aside. "You *would* be the only woman who says this stuff to me." He ran his hand through his hair. "So what's your magical mystery plan?"  
  
"We should go to a bar."  
  
"Look... despite Joey's claims to the contrary, beer is *not* a breakfast food."  
  
"No, no, no. For one thing, it's four p.m., lazy-ass. And another, okay, I'm not talking about a *bar* bar, y'know, I'm talking about a... *baaaaar* bar."  
  
"A *crucial* semantic distinction *not* always appreciated."  
  
"Will you stop? I'm talking about a..." she lowered her voice, "*gay* bar."  
  
Chandler raised an eyebrow. "Look, Rach... if you can't say it at full volume, you probably don't want to go there."  
  
"Fine," she sighed. "Gay bar, gay bar, gay bar. I want to go to a gay bar. Chandler, would you like to go to a gay bar? I'm going to a gay bar. You should accompany me to a gay bar. It's gay, and it's a bar. Gay bar."  
  
He couldn't resist. "Now, where do you want to go again?"  
  
Rachel let out a little scream of annoyance and stood up. "Never mind. Never mind! I'll ask Phoebe. At least it'll be *quicker*."  
  
"Rach, stop." He stood up and reached for his pants. "Why, why do you want to go to a gay bar?"  
  
"To, y'know! All that stuff we talked about last night! To find out! Aren't you curious?"  
  
"A straight-arrow *decade* passes between your bisexual half-hour and now, and suddenly you're all fired up to go... fishing for lesbians? What is *with* you all of a sudden?"  
  
"Well, I..." Rachel nibbled her fingernail. "Now I'm not, y'know, alone."  
  
"I'm your *Gayness Buddy*?" Chandler cried indignantly.  
  
"I wouldn't phrase it like that..."  
  
"I would!"  
  
"Chandler, please? C'mon, just once? Aren't you even the teensy weeniest bit curious?"  
  
"To find out what it's like to be stabbed six hundred times with a dinosaur bone? Shockingly, no!"  
  
"Look, we don't have to *do* anything. In fact, we'll... we'll make a pact that we won't. We'll just go, y'know, look around, see how we feel... and then just go home, right? No harm done, no big deal."  
  
"In Bizarro World!"  
  
"Chandler, I'm trying to get you to come with me to a place where there is beer *and* women kissing each other! Why is this so difficult?"  
  
"Why are we even having this conversation? I'm sorry, Rach, this is just... this isn't you at all."  
  
"Why isn't it me?" Rachel demanded, hands on hips.  
  
"Because it's not, that's why! You're just... you know..."  
  
"I'm *what*?"  
  
"Very... vanilla."  
  
"I am *sick* of being vanilla!" Rachel screeched. "Chandler, don't you get it? You say this isn't me, well... good! I don't want to stay the same forever, I want to do something *different*, I want to try new things!"  
  
"So get a haircut! Being bi isn't a... whimsical adventure!" He paused. "Unless, of course, you're my dad."  
  
"Chandler, look. I'm going to the damned gay bar. You can come with me and maybe answer some of the questions you're asking yourself, or you can stay here and mope around. Either way." She put her hand on the doorknob.  
  
"Rach, wait. I'll go with you. Just let me put on a shirt."  
  
***  
  
Rachel looked up and waved as Chandler returned from the bathroom, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Um... is it just me, or is everyone here straight? Maybe we shouldn't have picked this place out of the phone book."  
  
"No, no," he whispered back, "Just got back from the bathroom, definitely a gay bar."  
  
"Ooooh!" she said excitedly. "You saw stuff?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"And...? How'd you feel...?"  
  
"Like my hands were wet, 'cause they were blocking the paper towel dispenser...?"  
  
"Chandler," Rachel huffed in disappointment, hitting him lightly. She pointed to a guy across the bar. "What about him? He's cute."  
  
"Yeah, I guess..."  
  
"Chandler!"  
  
"I'm sorry! This is weird! What about you, you picked out anyone?"  
  
Rachel played with her straw. "Not really..."  
  
"Yuh-huh, so don't be judging me, okay?"  
  
"God, this really is weird," Rachel sighed. "Maybe this was a stupid idea."  
  
"Well, but hey -- would you feel any more comfortable trying to pick up strange guys in a bar?"  
  
"I never had to pick up guys, they always came for me," Rachel said quietly.  
  
"Hate you, by the way," Chandler grinned.  
  
"Well, maybe... maybe people assume we're straight? I mean, we came together, we've been together all night, we're obviously out of our element..."  
  
"Ah, yes, well, I'll fix that, let me pull my 'Bi-Curious Signal' out of my pocket..."  
  
"Hi, gorgeous," a voice directly behind them said.  
  
"Hi," Rachel and Chandler said in unison, whirling towards the source of the voice, a top-heavy redhead.  
  
"Oops," Rachel blushed, putting her hand over her mouth. "Um... which one of us were you talking to?"  
  
"Well... both of you, maybe," the girl said, a slow smile spreading over her face. "Do you work as a team?"  
  
Chandler and Rachel shot each other a stunned look.  
  
"Um... we hadn't really thought about it..." Chandler replied.  
  
"Well, think about it," the girl laughed. "I'll be over there."  
  
Chandler and Rachel watched the girl slink off, and turned to each other with eyebrows soaring.  
  
"Um, excuse me, guys," the bartender said, leaning in, "None of my business, but... soopa-skank. If that's your thing, cool, but, y'know, safety first."  
  
"Thanks," Rachel said awkwardly.  
  
"So do you guys? Work as a team?" he asked, polishing a glass. "Was just trying to figure you two out."  
  
"We're... uh..." Chandler stammered.  
  
"Our status is still in flux," Rachel finished primly.  
  
"Ah," the bartender smiled. "Well, if you *do* work as a team, I might suggest you avoid the walking petri dish and set your sights over there..."  
  
Chandler and Rachel's eyes followed his pointing finger to an ethereally beautiful dark-haired man and woman across the room, holding hands and laughing.  
  
"Mama mia," Chandler breathed.  
  
"W-wow," Rachel added.  
  
"Leslie and James," the bartender grinned helpfully. "They're models. I hear they have *fabulous* teamwork." He winked and headed over to the other end of the bar.  
  
Chandler and Rachel spun to face each other.  
  
"So... um... Leslie and James," Chandler began awkwardly. "And, uh, the teamwork issue."  
  
"Oh, that's an issue," Rachel sputtered.  
  
"So, uh, do we? Work as a team? 'Cause you know, I don't think Ross would hate me any less because there were two models sandwiched in between."  
  
"Yeah, we shouldn't work as a team. Although they... they are *pretty*."  
  
"Very, very pretty."  
  
They both went back to their drinks in silence.   
  
"So, this was pretty much a total bust," Chandler sighed. "I guess we're double-scoops of vanilla, huh?"  
  
"That wasn't... I mean... this isn't a real test," Rachel replied. "Brian and Melissa... we didn't spot them across a bar, you know? They were people we knew and liked way before. We might still be bi, we're just not... y'know... bar-picker-uppers."  
  
Chandler made two toothpicks dance across the counter. "Well, Brian has a boyfriend... how about you, do you see this Melissa chick?"  
  
"Haven't seen her since college," Rachel sighed. "She probably doesn't even remember it."  
  
"Aw, c'mon, you? I'd remember kissing you," Chandler said.  
  
They stopped and stared at each other.  
  
"We're havin' a little moment again," Rachel smiled.  
  
"We're doing that *way* too often," Chandler agreed.  
  
Rachel bit her lip, a calculating look in her eyes. "So, um, that would have been interesting, wouldn't it? If we'd gone home with James and Leslie?"  
  
"Y'know, I think when you start having bisexual orgies with models, 'interesting' just isn't an adjective that gets used much."  
  
"I mean, you could have watched me and Leslie together," Rachel whispered. "Our bodies sliding against each other as James pressed hot kisses on your neck..."  
  
"Uh-huh, okay, what the hell are you doing?"  
  
"Well, I was just thinking that if we were uncomfortable, y'know, plunging right in, we could sort of... um... talk our way through it and see how we felt?"  
  
"Mmm-hmm, yeah, sex-chat with you, that sounds *great*. It'll be fun to have blue balls *while* Ross dismembers me." Chandler downed the rest of his drink.  
  
"Ross, Ross, Ross, Ross, Ross," Rachel said glumly, swirling her glass between her hands.  
  
"Yup, exactly. Look, Rachel, I mean... if circumstances were different, maybe this whole help-each-other-figure-stuff-out thing would be a good thing. Y'know, if what we were figuring out was quadratic theory, o-or hey, you hadn't dated Ross! But this is, this is too close to that line, and Ross is one of my best friends."  
  
"Am I not *ever* allowed to move on?" Rachel demanded.  
  
"You're allowed to move on!" Chandler replied. "Just not... *with* me, o-or *near* me, or in any way that *I* know about before *Ross* does. Plausible deniability, that is the key!"  
  
"Please. I'm sure Ross is over me... I mean... I am *over* Ross. Completely and totally over Ross."  
  
"Y'know what? We should go. We should go, right now," Chandler said quickly, casting glances at something behind Rachel's head.  
  
Rachel tried to follow his eyes, but Chandler slammed her coat and purse into her chest. "C'mon, Rach, experiment over, mission aborted, let's go get some coffee..."  
  
"Chandler, what the..." Rachel asked in confusion as he grabbed her hand and began pulling her toward the exit.  
  
"Hey, Chandler!" a cheerful voice behind them chirped.  
  
"Hey... *you*," Chandler said, a smile-like expression stretching painfully across his face. "Great to see you! You should call me. My friend and I are totally late, sorry we don't have time to chat..."  
  
"Nice to meet you," the girl said to Rachel. "I'm..."  
  
"...leaving too?" Chandler finished. "Aww, too bad! Catch you later, though!"  
  
"Chandler, don't be an ass," Rachel laughed, extending her hand. "Hi, I'm Rachel Green."  
  
The girl's face hovered for a moment, then plummeted. She shot a wild look at Chandler, whose eyes bulged significantly. "Y'know, Chandler's right, I totally have to be somewhere. *Great* to meet you, though, Rachel."  
  
She headed off into the crowd, but Rachel caught her by the arm. "Aw, c'mon, we didn't even really meet! What's your name? I never get to meet any of Chandler's friends!"  
  
"I'm, uh, my name is, uh," the girl mumbled something unintelligible and sprinted off.  
  
"Well *that* was weird," Rachel said suspiciously.  
  
"Yeah, she's weird," Chandler chirped. "Coffee sounds good, though, right? Mmm, coffee!"  
  
"Why didn't you want me to meet that girl?" Rachel demanded.  
  
"Because she's weird! Cookoo! Cookoo!"  
  
Rachel shook her head. "Then just tell me her name."  
  
"It's, uh, it's... Ch... armaine!"  
  
"You are the worst, the worst liar ever, in the whole recorded history of liars, Chandler, you..." Rachel stopped suddenly, her eyes opening wide.  
  
"Hey, Rachel, the coffeeshop is gonna close if we don't hurry..."  
  
"Belly button ring," Rachel accused, her finger pointing in the direction the girl had run off to.  
  
"Yes, it's nice, isn't it?" Chandler said, pulling her finger down and using it to steer her away. "You, you should totally get one. Maybe I'll get one too! Hey, let's go do that, c'mon, we'll be bellybutton buddies!"  
  
"That was *Chloe*, wasn't it?" Rachel demanded, eyes suddenly shiny. "That was Chloe, the copy place girl!"  
  
"Yeah," Chandler admitted, staring at his shoes.  
  
"Oh god," Rachel gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "That was Chloe, oh my god, that was her."  
  
"Which doesn't bother you, 'cause you're *completely* and *totally* over Ross," Chandler drawled.  
  
"Oh god, she was so pretty," Rachel squeaked, fanning her face with her hands.  
  
"Not as pretty as you! Not as pretty as you!" Chandler panicked, grabbing her by the arm. "Let's get out of here, okay?"  
  
"I can't feel my knees," Rachel blurted.  
  
"Okay, okay, here," Chandler said, wrapping one of Rachel's arms around his neck and encircling her waist with his own. "We're walkin', walkin' right out of the gay bar that is entirely too filled with straight people we know, yes we are..."  
  
"Oh god, Chandler," Rachel cried as Chandler half-dragged her towards the door, "Why did I want to come here? God, why?"  
  
Chandler set her down on a bench outside and took her hands. "C'mon, Rachel, look at this way. What's better... to run into Chloe on your way out and realize that you're not really over Ross... or be in the middle of a big naked orgy and realize that you're not really over Ross?"  
  
"At least in the orgy, I'd have something to take my mind off it," Rachel sobbed.  
  
"That's... true," Chandler said carefully. "But look. I mean, there you were in there, trying to convince me that you were over Ross, and you're not, you're really not, hon. I have to ask you -- how much of this 'Chasing Rachel' kick you're on is just a reaction to Ross? Don't you think it's a *little* coincidental that, y'know, he hurts you really badly... and you suddenly have this urge to do the exact thing his wife did that totally destroyed him?"  
  
"It's not that, I swear," Rachel sniffed.  
  
"Okay, maybe it isn't, but Rach... should you really be trying to get with *anybody*, male *or* female, until you're really over him?"  
  
"I *am* over him," Rachel insisted. Off Chandler's dubious look, she continued, "Mostly. I'm over him *enough*, anyway. Seeing Chloe was just... ripping off a scab, okay? I never had... crystal-clear Kodachrome mental pictures before, okay, she was always kind of a... blur with nipples."  
  
"Well, all right. So to go back to my point earlier... if this is how much over Ross *you* are, then he's probably in the same place. And you doing *anything* with me, even with me as a... bystander, would be like ripping off that scab... and pouring lemon juice in it."  
  
Rachel heaved a sigh and looked through her purse for tissue. "Look, just reject me, okay? You don't have to get all... fancy about it."  
  
"I'm not *rejecting* you," Chandler replied. "In case you haven't noticed, I've *always* been attracted to you."  
  
"Really?" Rachel wiped her eyes.  
  
"Well, yeah...! I mean, notice the pattern, okay? I've bumped into you on a few occasions over the years. Whenever I knew who you were, I stayed the hell away. The one time I didn't... the one time I just saw you, didn't recognize you, didn't know you were The Amazing Rachel Green, Star of Ross' Fantasy World... I made a complete idiot of myself hitting on you before Monica told me who you were."  
  
"I had the best dream about you that night," Rachel grinned, wiping her tears away.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Ohhh, yeah. It was *way* longer than I told everyone at the coffeeshop."  
  
Chandler shook his head to expel the hormones. "But still. Maybe there was a door there at one time, but... it's closed now. I mean, it's cemented closed, bricked over, with boards nailed up over it. Velvet ropes around it, key broken off in the lock, security guards, I mean... there's no gettin' near that door."  
  
"Can we go home now?" Rachel asked in a small voice. "This night is getting less fun by the second."  
  
"Sure," Chandler said, helping her to her feet and taking her hand. "You okay?"  
  
"Oh, sure," Rachel said, putting her tissue back in her purse. "I'm fine. I'm great. 'Cause this is such a fun situation, you know? I'm not supposed to be over Ross, or not over Ross. I'm not supposed to date anyone Ross knows, which, oops, is everyone *I* know. So I'm basically, y'know, in this wonderful, *wonderful* place where I can either, huh, die an old maid with 57 cats, or cause some huge melodrama everyone will blame me for. Y'know, Chandler... I'm just having such a terrific time, I'm surprised I can *contain* my *glee*."  
  
"Hey-hey," Chandler replied. "*I'm* the bitter, sarcastic one!"  
  
"Hey-hey," Rachel snapped right back. "Get used to the competition!"  
  
Rachel stood for a moment, looking between Chandler and the door. "I want to go back in."  
  
"Dear sweet lord in heaven, why?"  
  
"Because I have to *pee*, okay?"  
  
Rachel turned on her heel and marched back into the bar. Chandler leaned back against the bench and sighed deeply.  
  
Damn. How long did it take her to pee?  
  
He checked his watch again. Fifteen minutes.  
  
And again. Twenty minutes.  
  
Crap. Chandler walked back into the bar, scanning the crowd for Rachel. He checked the bar area, the dance floor, and finally hesitated at the door of the Ladies' Room.  
  
A woman reached for the doorhandle, and he caught her arm. "Hey-hey, hi there, hi. Would you do me a favor? My friend Rachel's been in there a while. About your height, hair kind of a light reddish brown, goes like this," he made swooping motions with his hands around his face, "... wearing these sort of weird green snakey pants?"  
  
"I've seen her," the woman replied.  
  
"Ah, great," Chandler sighed in relief. "Would you tell her that I'm out here waiting for her?"  
  
"She's not in there," the woman smiled. "She's in the back with Chloe."  
  
"Chloe," Chandler repeated in a monotone full of dread.  
  
"Yeah," the woman replied, eyes twinkling. "About my height, hair kind of a blackish brown, goes like this?" She made fluffing motions around her head.  
  
"Oh, god," Chandler groaned, turning on his heel and heading for the back.  
  
"Hey, look, if this 'Rachel' is your girlfriend..." the woman by the bathroom called, "You might not wanna go back there...!"  
  
Chandler fought his way through the crowd to the back of the club, where there was a series of darkened alcoves.  
  
He popped his head into the first one, disturbing the couple inside. "Um, sorry... sorry..."  
  
He finally reached the right alcove and cleared his throat loudly. Rachel and Chloe broke off their kiss, and Rachel glared at him defiantly.  
  
"Arousing as this is," Chandler demanded, "Stop it, stop it right now."  
  
"We already stopped," Chloe grinned mischeviously, running her thumb over her lower lip.  
  
"Are you on some sort of... dysfunctional activity scavenger hunt?" Chandler demanded, staring at Rachel with his hands on his hips.  
  
"Oh, please," Rachel cooed, waving her hand dismissively. "Calm down."  
  
"Calm down? You're actively trying to get me disembowled at the hands of a rabid paleontologist, and I'm supposed to calm down? Hey, Rachel, wanna hear a funny name? Ross! You know what rhymes with Ross? Ross! You know what's short for Ross? Ross!"  
  
"This is none of Ross' business," Rachel replied calmly.  
  
"Yuh-huh! And if history teaches us *anything*, it's that when you fool around with Chloe, no one finds out about it!!"  
  
"Yeah, I'm gonna go," Chloe replied awkwardly, hurriedly grabbing her jacket and running down the stairs.  
  
Chandler and Rachel were left glaring at each other.  
  
"So," Chandler spat, "Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me that you're *not* doing this because of Ross? Because I am *so* not gonna believe you!"  
  
"Okay, *that* I did because of Ross," Rachel admitted.  
  
"You know what, Rachel?" Chandler sighed. "All that stuff you said about wanting to be different? This isn't different. This is you... w-with different accessories, y'know? You get hurt, you go flying off on these stupid, rebellious rampages... and maybe, maybe I can't stop you, but I don't have to be dragged along for them, okay?"  
  
Rachel looked back at him, the hard look in her eyes fading. She stood up and took his hand. "Look, Chandler... I'm sorry. I know it was kinda stupid."  
  
"Kinda?"  
  
"Okay, really stupid. But hey -- I feel a lot better about the Chloe/Ross thing now!"  
  
"Which is ironic, since you and Chloe making out was about the one thing Ross *didn't* try."  
  
"And hey..." Rachel smiled, poking Chandler in the stomach, "At least *I* hooked up with someone in the gay bar... unlike you, loo-ser...!"  
  
"Yeah, and what a great choice it was," Chandler laughed. "Huh, whose throat do I wanna stick my tongue down? Hmm, wonder if Richard or Paolo are here? O-or hey, maybe *Gary*?"  
  
"You and Richard would be kind of cute together," Rachel grinned.  
  
"Can we leave, *please*?" Chandler groaned.  
  
"Okay, just let me pee," Rachel said, gathering her purse and jacket. Off Chandler's look, she continued defensively, "I didn't get to before!"  
  
"Yeah, okay," Chandler muttered. "But if I have to go in there and extract you from Carol's pants, you're getting a talking-to you won't forget, missy."  
  
"I promise," Rachel laughed, heading into the crowd.  
  
She disappeared into the restroom, and Chandler leaned against the wall. He noticed two guys staring at him and looked at his shoes intently.  
  
"I swear to God, that guy looks so familiar," one whispered to the other.  
  
Chandler's ears pricked, and he picked at a band poster nonchalantly.  
  
"Hey, yeah, he *does* look familiar," the other one replied.  
  
"You didn't...?"  
  
"Oh no, no, definitely not..." the taller man snapped his fingers. "Got it."  
  
"So who is he?"  
  
"Joey Tribbiani's roommate. I met him once."  
  
"Joey's roommate? I didn't think anyone had ever met his roommate...? I only ever saw a picture."  
  
"He came home early once. Cute guy, pretty funny..."  
  
Rachel banged the bathroom door open and grabbed Chandler by the arm. "Okay, Bing, let's bail."  
  
He motioned for her to shush, but it was too late... the two men had moved away.  
  
Rachel watched Chandler watch them go, eyebrow raised. "Huh -- did I mess something up for you?"  
  
"No, no," Chandler said, "Just... overhearing a weird conversation..."  
  
"Weird how?" Rachel asked, shrugging her coat on.  
  
He filled her in briefly as they walked to the door.  
  
"Aw, c'mon, Chandler," Rachel smiled, pushing the door open. "Joey's an *actor*. Did you seriously think all of his friends were straight?"  
  
"It wasn't that... it was something about the way they said it... y'know, and me 'coming home early'... what's up with that?"  
  
"Well, maybe you should just ask Joey," Rachel said, brushing her hair back from her face.  
  
"Uh-huh, yeah, and how would I start *that* conversation?"  
  
"Weeeeellll... you *could* tell him about how you watched me and Chloe make out. I'm sure that'd get his attention," Rachel grinned slyly.  
  
"Ohh, hey, that's right, you know... in all the confusion, I completely forgot to relive that over and over," Chandler closed his eyes happily. "Mmmmm-hmmmm!"  
  
"And just think... if you hadn't been so judgemental, you could have sauntered right in and joined us," Rachel added.  
  
Chandler's eyes popped open. "Seriously?"  
  
"Well, no," Rachel laughed, "But you were going to injure yourself walking that way."  
  
They laughed, linked hands, and walked off down the street. 


	4. Eating The Wax

"I think we've got about five minutes," Chandler said, looking at his watch as they approached Central Perk. "Should we just forget it?"  
  
"Nah, they won't get mad if we just get coffee in to-go cups," Rachel said. "They can't dump out the airpots until closing anyway. We should hurry, though."  
  
They ran into the coffeeshop, heading straight for the counter. "Two coffees to go, please, Gunther," Chandler said, reaching for his wallet.  
  
Rachel looked up from digging in her purse. "Gunther... um... why are you looking at me like that?"  
  
"Made out with Chloe, did you," Gunther stated flatly.  
  
"Oh my god!" Rachel cried, hand flying over her mouth. "Gunther... you... you didn't tell anyone, did you?"  
  
"I'm *sorry*," Gunther purred with a smile that sent deja vu swarming up Rachel's spine. "Was I not *supposed* to?"  
  
Rachel whirled. Ross was sitting by the window, glaring at her.  
  
"I'm *not* eating wax this time," Chandler said unhappily.  
  
"Well hey, guys," Ross said bitterly. "Didya have fun at the gay bar?"  
  
"Boy, I was *hoping* you'd say that really loudly," Chandler replied.  
  
"Y'know, I would love to watch this fight," Gunther said, setting their to-go cups on the counter. "But as of four seconds ago, we are officially closed."  
  
"Well, I think we all know where *this* fight continues," Ross spat, pointing in the general direction of Monica and Rachel's apartment.  
  
"I'm *not* eating wax this time," Chandler repeated.  
  
"Don't worry, Chandler," Ross snapped. "This time, *you* get to *participate* in the fight!"  
  
"Couldn't I just eat some wax?" Chandler replied, following Rachel and Ross out of the coffeeshop.  
  
***  
  
"Now, where were we," Ross cried, throwing his coat across Monica's kitchen table violently.   
  
Phoebe, Joey, and Monica looked up from the couch. "What's going on?"  
  
"Rachel made out with Chloe. At a gay bar *Chandler* took her to!"  
  
"What are you doing, *recruiting* people now?" Monica cried. "I thought the Republicans made that up!"  
  
"I am not *recruiting* people!" Chandler screeched. "I'm probably not even gay!"  
  
"And what if he is?" Rachel cried angrily. "What's wrong with that? Why can't he be gay if he wants to be? How hypocritical are you people?"  
  
"Hypocritical?" Ross choked. "*You* are calling people hypocritical? Chloe-Chloe-Chloe-Chloe-Chloe!"  
  
"You and I are not *dating*!" Rachel snapped. "I am a single person! The situation is totally different! And don't you even say the *word* 'break'!"  
  
"Huh. Chloe, a bar, alcohol, making out... yeah, it seems pretty different to me!"  
  
"Well, for one thing, I didn't have *sex* with her!"  
  
"You don't have anything to have sex with her *with*!"  
  
"Whoa-whoa-whoa," Phoebe blurted, raising her hands. "Are you saying that lesbian sex isn't real sex?"  
  
"Of course not," Ross snapped. "I *married* a lesbian, remember? I do know *something* about the topic."  
  
"What the hell were you doing at a gay bar, anyway, Rachel?" Monica asked.  
  
"Chandler took her there!" Ross exploded.  
  
"No, Ross," Rachel said firmly. "*I* took *Chandler* there, okay? He didn't even want to go, and he kept trying to get me to leave. He even stopped me and Chloe making out."  
  
Chandler looked at Rachel gratefully, and a little of the anger faded from Ross' face.  
  
"Fine, Chandler," Ross said. "You can go."  
  
"Look, Ross, I think you'll being a little hard on Rachel..."  
  
"I can handle this, Chandler," Rachel said quietly. "Go ahead and go."  
  
"Can I go too?" Joey asked.  
  
"Of course," Ross said in irritation.  
  
Joey and Phoebe jumped up and joined Chandler in the doorway.  
  
"You can go too, Monica," Rachel said.  
  
"What? I live here! You can't just kick me out whenever you want!"  
  
"Fight... getting... bigger!" Phoebe hissed in Chandler's ear. "Go-go-go!"  
  
***  
  
The three of them slammed into Chandler and Joey's apartment, shutting the door behind them to block the increasing decibel level from across the hall.  
  
"Sheesh," Phoebe muttered to Joey. "And you wondered why I never told them!"  
  
"Told them... what?" Chandler asked.  
  
"That she's bi," Joey said matter-of-factly, opening the fridge. "Beer?"  
  
"Um, yeah," Chandler said, then whipped to Phoebe. "You *are*?"  
  
"Well, duh," Phoebe said, accepting the beer Joey handed her. "And Joey is too, if he'd freakin' admit it."  
  
"Look, I'm not, okay?" Joey said, twisting his cap off. "Keep your fantasies to yourself."  
  
"Oh, pardon *me*," Phoebe said sarcastically. "Joey's only bi when he's *drunk*."  
  
"What?" Chandler cried, neck craning around in the other direction.  
  
"I... may... have gotten drunk on a few occasions..."  
  
"Oh please," Phoebe laughed. "In vino veritas, Joey."  
  
"Shut up, Pheebs," Joey snapped.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Chandler demanded. "You're bi... and you just understood Latin?"  
  
"Anyway, we outnumber them now," Phoebe said, sipping her beer. "I say we all come out. What are they gonna do?"  
  
"Who are the 'we' and 'they' in these sentences?" Chandler squawked.  
  
"Well, the 'we' is you, me, Joey, and Rachel, obviously," Phoebe said calmly. "And 'they' -- Monica and Ross."  
  
"Look, Rachel and I don't know anything yet. That's why we went to the bar! Don't assign us to a group!"  
  
"You went on a *date* with a *dude*," Joey said.  
  
"It was on a *bet*!"  
  
"It was?" Joey asked, a strange expression crossing his face.  
  
"But still, Chandler -- why'd you go to the bar?" Phoebe asked.  
  
"Well, I... I mean, I had a pretty good time on my date, way better than I thought I would. And I had this talk with Rachel... she wanted to go to the bar..."  
  
"Talkin' about me behind my back?" Rachel said, slipping into the apartment with a faint door-click.  
  
"How'd you get out of *that* so fast?"  
  
Rachel waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, they're off on some Geller-war now. It's like I wasn't in the room. So I decided not to be."  
  
"Beer?" Joey asked.  
  
"They're all gay!" Chandler cried. "And no one will freak out with me!"  
  
"Really," Rachel said, a smile playing over her lips. "Even you, Joey?"  
  
"I'm not gay," Joey protested. "Phoebe likes to make a big deal out of nothing."  
  
"Uh-huh, I'm *totally* exaggerating," Phoebe drawled. "Joey ended up in the bathroom with that Spanish guy for two hours because he was teaching him how we *flush* in *America*."  
  
"S-spanish g-guy?" Chandler stuttered.  
  
"I don't even remember that," Joey said dismissively.  
  
"Well, I do!" Phoebe cried. "And everyone else at the party does! And oh-ho-ho, *Manuel* does!"  
  
"She's just makin' crap up now."  
  
"So are you bi or not, Rachel?" Phoebe asked, swiveling in Rachel's direction.  
  
"I... I dunno," Rachel said.  
  
"Oh, c'mon! How can you not know?"  
  
"It's not like a lightning bolt came down from the sky while a choir announced it!" Rachel said defensively. "I have... feelings... I don't know about!"  
  
"And you?" Phoebe focused on Chandler.  
  
"What Rachel said!"  
  
"You people," Phoebe sighed.  
  
"Whatever, Little Miss In-A-Shoebox-In-The-Back-of-the-Closet," Rachel snapped, opening her beer and throwing the cap into the trash.  
  
"Hey, look. I never said I *wasn't*. But you saw the reaction in there. I want to deal with *that* on a daily basis, suuuure."  
  
"Hey, wait a damn minute," Chandler interrupted. "It's not like you two were incredibly supportive. Rachel's the only one who even tried to talk to me about it. Joey, you ignored me for days!"  
  
"Dude, it wasn't that, it was..." Joey mumbled.  
  
"You could have tried talking to *us*," Phoebe snapped. "But no, you had to get all Chandlery about it."  
  
"Lay *off*, Pheebs," Rachel sighed. "Can't you just accept that Chandler and I aren't sure yet? Surely there was a time when you didn't know... and Joey's still in denial..."  
  
"I am *not* in denial," Joey muttered into his beer.  
  
"Fine, whatever," Rachel said. "But it's not like you're marching in parades, Pheebs. You're stuck right in the same gray area as the rest of us."  
  
"I am *not*."  
  
"Okay, fine. When was the last time you had a girlfriend? Or even a date with a girl?"  
  
"It's been a while, but it's not like..."  
  
"Uh-huh," Rachel said dismissively.   
  
"Look, it's not exactly easy!" Phoebe snapped. "Hey, hi there, cute girl. Would you like to go out with me, and *never* meet my friends, and *never* go out in public, and *never* have me admit that we're dating? Oh yeah, they just line right up for that, sure!"  
  
"And why's that?" Rachel challenged. "You always say you're so independent, why couldn't you just march right up to us and say, 'Hey guys, this is my new girlfriend!' Huh? Why not?"  
  
"Because of you people!" Phoebe exploded. "You know, all you WASPy little freak-out-over-anything, incredibly set in your ways, oh-no-that-person's-different, let's-mock-them *people*!"  
  
Rachel's eyes lit up in triumph. "Uh-huh. So when *Chandler* and *I* try to do something different, you, huh, let's see... freak out and mock us?"  
  
"Shut up!" Joey shouted. "Everybody quit yellin'! You're freakin' out the duck!"  
  
He grabbed the duck, marched over to the Barcolounger, dropped into it, and swiveled so that the back shielded him from the other three.  
  
"Joey's right," Chandler rubbed his aching temples. "Why are we fighting?"  
  
"Sorry, Rachel," Phoebe said. "I'm just... kinda sensitive about this topic, I guess."  
  
"I'm sorry too, I..." Rachel sighed and leaned against the counter. "I'm just *confused*, and now Ross is all pissed, and Monica's going to be so weird around me now..."  
  
Rachel put her head down on the counter, and Phoebe stroked her hair. "Look, Monica's your friend. She'll get over it."  
  
"Weren't you *just* telling us that you didn't tell anyone because they *wouldn't* get over it?" Rachel brushed her hair out of her eyes.  
  
"Well, but... I was wrong. I mean, you and Chandler were two of the people I thought would freak, and you're all going to bars and stuff."  
  
"Oh, I'm still freaking," Chandler said, dropping into the other Barcolounger. "I'm just not doing it at the same decibel level."  
  
"God, I don't wanna go home," Rachel moaned.  
  
"So don't, tonight," Phoebe said. "C'mon, I have an extra room. You can crash in there. You wanna go?"  
  
"I'm pretty ready for this day to be over," Rachel sighed. "Goodnight, guys."  
  
"'Night, Pheebs. 'Night, Rachel."  
  
Phoebe held the door open for Rachel, rubbing her back consolingly.  
  
Chandler waited until the door had closed, then reached out with a foot and spun Joey's barcolounger around.  
  
"You wanna talk, Joe?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess," Joey sighed, setting the duck on the floor. "I'm not gay, though."  
  
"Well, I'm probably not either."  
  
"So you... you dated that guy on a bet?"  
  
"Yeah," Chandler smiled. "Look. Remember a couple years ago, when that chick in my office tried to set me up with a guy? It was all from back from then. A little revenge mixed in with a little bit of greed... that's all. I mean, Brian has a boyfriend, it wasn't anything serious."  
  
"So what's up with the bar, and Rachel, and stuff?"  
  
"Well... as part of the bet, Brian and I had to kiss a couple of times. And it..." Chandler sighed. "It didn't gross me out or anything like I expected it to." He peered at Joey. "You okay with that?"  
  
"Well yeah, man," Joey replied. "I mean, when I first met you, I thought you were gay, and I still wanted to move in with you."  
  
"So, um..." Chandler bit his lip. "Why were you so mad at me? You didn't want to talk to me at all, that night when I came home."  
  
"I was just in a bad mood, that's all," Joey said, not quite meeting Chandler's eyes.  
  
"Joe... I don't believe you. Look, if you're uncomfortable, it's something we should talk about, right? I mean, if I'm gonna figure this thing out, I'm... I should probably at least try dating a guy, right? And if that's going to freak you out..."  
  
"It doesn't freak me out," Joey said quickly. "I just don't think you should do it, that's all."  
  
"Uh... why?"  
  
"Well, no offense, man, but you have *horrible* taste in women. And you'd probably have *horrible* taste in guys, right?"  
  
"Brian's pretty cool," Chandler said defensively.  
  
"Cool and *taken*," Joey replied.  
  
"So... what? Are you telling me I shouldn't date guys, or that I should just quit dating altogether 'cause I suck at it?"  
  
"Well, you do kind of suck at it."  
  
"Hey," Chandler said in irritation, springing up out of the chair. "At least I'm *selective*. I don't stick it in anything with a pulse!"  
  
"No, you stick it in anything with a pulse and severe emotional problems," Joey snapped, rising and getting in Chandler's face.  
  
"Oh yeah," Chandler cried. "Because *your* dating record is *so* fantastic! Huh, who am I more jealous of, Fruit Basket Freako, o-or Eats Like A Squirrel, o-or hey, Kate The Total Froot Loop?"  
  
"I love Janice!" Joey whined. "I hate Janice! No-no, I love Janice! Wait, wait, I hate Janice!"  
  
"I'm Joey!" Chandler exploded. "I've gone through every woman in New York, so now I have to lock myself in the bathroom with Spanish guys!"  
  
"I'm Chandler! I've tried every screwed up relationship except, hey-hey, hittin' on Rachel!"  
  
"I'm Joey! I -- mmrph!"  
  
Chandler's sentence stopped abruptly as Joey grabbed him by the ears and kissed him.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Chandler shrieked, springing back.  
  
"I was shuttin' you up!" Joey shouted, stalking to his room and slamming the door.  
  
"You couldn't think of another way to do that!?" Chandler cried to Joey's closed door.  
  
"Go to bed," Joey growled from behind the door.  
  
"Oh-oh, I will! And don't, don't do that again!" Chandler shouted.  
  
"Oh, I won't, don't you worry!"  
  
"Good!" Chandler called, running his fingers over his lips in wonder. 


End file.
